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Awakening the Alpha’s Mate
A Shifter Paranormal Romance
By Ruby Brinks
Copyright © 2023 by Ruby Brinks

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by

any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright
law.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No
identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is
intended or should be inferred.

1st edition August 2023

 Special Thanks

I want to thank my Husband, Andy, for being supportive and

helping bring my dreams into reality. He is a true partner.
Thanks to a couple of awesome ladies that really helped
make this book great! You are the BEST!
Dawne Kowalski and Kara Lynn McCullough
Contents
1. Prologue

2. Chapter 1

3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3

5. Chapter 4

6. Chapter 5

7. Chapter 6
8. Chapter 7

9. Chapter 8

10. Chapter 9
11. Chapter 10

12. Chapter 11

13. Chapter 12

14. Chapter 13
15. Chapter14

16. Chapter 15

17. Chapter 16

18. Chapter 17

19. Chapter 18

20. Chapter 19

21. Chapter 20
22. Epilogue

About the Author

 Prologue

Constance
 “Hey, you’re back pretty early.”
I step inside the apartment slamming the door shut with a little
more force than is necessary. Parker watches me with concern from
the couch as I go and flop down opposite her, sighing heavily.
“Really, Constance?” she asks sympathetically. “Was it that bad?”
“Worse. Much, much worse.” I bury my face in my hands, not
wanting to look at her out of embarrassment. “He was rude to the
waiter, he’s not a big fan of dogs, and, oh, the most important part,
his favorite pastime is playing video games in his mom’s basement.
Yes, he lives in his mom’s basement.”
Parker groans in horror. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you
had to tolerate that guy for even 5 minutes. You definitely won’t be
able to get that part of your life back.”
“Yeah,” I mumble glumly, rubbing my eyes and temples. “Tonight
was pure dating hell. Needless to say, that was my last blind date.
Parker, I swear it.”
Parker doesn’t say anything immediately, which means she
disagrees with what I’ve just said. After a few moments of silence,
she replies.
“Constance, I know tonight was a horrible experience for you. I—
trust me, I get it. But you can’t use that as an excuse to give up
dating altogether! You’ll never meet someone that way.”
I raise my head up from my open palms and glare at my friend. I
don’t want to, I really don’t want to, but my voice comes out slightly
bitter when I speak. “You managed to find Julian, Parker, even
though you weren’t actively looking for him. Why can’t the same
happen to me?”
 “Constance, I managed to meet Julian because I kept myself open
to love, and not bury myself in my work and career, like you have
spent all your college years.” Parker stares at me intently, urging me
to understand the point she’s trying to make. “You can’t just go on
like this, Constance. You never dated in college because you said
you were too busy with your classes. Now you’re using one bad
experience to stop looking for someone again. You can’t keep
running away from this forever. You’ll just end up alone in the end,
and I know you don’t want that.”
“Argh, whatever.” I throw my hands up in the air and make a
dismissive gesture. “Fine, we’ll deal with all this later, okay? For now,
let’s just focus on the positive stuff, like your wedding.” I smile at
Parker, a smile that is full and sincere. “I can’t believe it’s less than
fourteen days away! God, in two weeks, you’ll be Mrs. Turner!”
The worry and concern that has been lining Parker’s face quickly
disappears at my words, and I see excitement seep in instead. She
looks at me, eyes shining, her hands bawled into fists. “I swear,
Constance, I can’t believe it either! It feels like I’m living in a
dream.” Her eyes go distant, and a dreamy, faraway look covers her
expression. “Who gets a wedding on a beautiful, exotic island in
paradise for a bargain since it’s off-season? With a man who truly
loves me and cares for me. Man, sometimes it sounds too good to
be true.”
“It’s not. You deserve it all, Parker because you’re the kindest,
smartest, funniest human being I know. And I know how you like a
good deal, but I’m more excited about how empty the hotel will be.”
I laugh and lean forward and gently clasp her hand across the sofa.
Parker smiles back at me warmly and is about to say something
when a cellphone rings in the bedroom.
“Oh, that must be Julian. I better get that.” She rises from the sofa
and disappears into her room.
I sit alone in silence.
The smile etched onto my face falters a little, and then fades. Of
course, I am happy for Parker. She’s my best friend, and deserves
nothing but the best from life. But sometimes…sometimes I just
feel…left out. Alone. Empty. As if there’s something lacking in my
life. A kind of love that I haven’t experienced in a long, long time.
And perhaps never will.
I can hear Parker from inside her room, speaking to her fiancé and
giggling every few seconds or so. The sounds of her bubbly laughter
only make me more aware of the hollow feeling that is inside of me,
of the loneliness that I’ve been living with for so long. I push all
those feelings to the side like normal but there’s only one question I
wish the universe would answer for me.
Will this ever end, and I find my soul mate?
 Chapter 1

Constance
 “Is that him?”
Even before I’ve asked the question, I already know the answer.
To my left, Parker looks up from her glass of pinot noir, and her
eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Hmmmm, yes, that is indeed the guy in the pictures Julian has
shown me. Although I have to say, he seems even more………
mysterious in person.”
I nod distractedly, my eyes on the tall, lean-figured man who’s
casually strolling towards the altar, where Julian is standing in a
tuxedo with the other Turner members. His hair is sandy-brown, cut
short and is splayed over his forehead in a slightly messy fashion.
“Now I know what Julian meant when he said his brother got the
better half of the Turner genes.” Sara squints in the man’s direction,
her interest piqued.
Parker is right…in a way. The guy does look good, no doubt, but in
a slightly messy, uncaring kind of way. Quite unlike the other men he
is striding past, who are sitting and ambling around in their dark
colored suits and ties, alongside women who appear equally
elegantly dressed.
“What did you say his business was again? A bar?”
I don’t know why, but I can’t stop my eyes from following the guy
as he winds his way through the crowd. And maybe I’m
overanalyzing, but he’s not even exactly winding. For some reason,
the crowd is shifting in his wake, allowing him space to go through.
Groups of people are moving to the sides unconsciously, without
them even realizing, and the man is simply walking in a straight line
through this congested room towards his brother. Or maybe I’ve just
gone crazy.
“Damn…,” I whisper.
“What did you say?”
“What?” Startled, I turn my head. Parker is staring at me, an
incredulous expression on her face.
“What?” I say again, this time with more innocence. But Parker
isn’t having any of it. Of course, she’s known me for more than
thirteen years, so it makes sense.
“Don’t you ‘what?’ me, Constance. I know that tone of voice. And
that expression. And I know what they both mean.”
“Huh? They do—don’t mean any—anything!” I sputter.
“Yeah, right.” Parker sets down her glass on the table and leans in
to give me her full attention. “It means that you’re interested in him.
I can see it clear as day on your face, and it’s the same look you
display for any guy that intrigues you.”
I huff indignantly, trying to appear insulted. “That is not true! I just
saw him; how could I be that interested in him?”
But Parker just smirks and doesn’t say anything further. She
doesn’t need to; she’s already proven her point.
And in a strange, twisted way, she’s actually right. Kind of. I mean,
I don’t like the guy, obviously, but there’s just something about him
that is………..drawing my curiosity.
I turn my head forward again. He’s standing with Julian and the
others now, saying something that the others are nodding to, with a
serious look on their faces. From the distance, I see the chandelier’s
light catching in his eyebrows, and accentuating their tawny color to
make it look as if they’re ablaze. My stomach twists, with unease or
desire, or both. I can’t tell.
“Alister…” Parker murmurs pensively.
“What?” I ask.
“His name, it’s Alister.”
“Alister Turner….” I say softly to myself, rolling the words around on
my tongue, getting a feel for them. “Remind me again, what exactly
did Julian tell you about his older brother?”
“Not much.” Parker picks up her glass again and takes a small sip.
“Whenever I would ask him, his face would morph into that weird,
cagey expression, and he would start giving one-word answers. So, I
just stopped asking and figured he’d tell me when the time came. At
first, I used to think there was some bad blood between the two.”
I turn my gaze towards the altar again. Now, Julian’s saying
something to Alister in a teasing, jovial manner. He claps him
playfully on the back as he finishes, and the Turner members
standing around them all burst into laughter. “There doesn’t appear
to be any bad blood between the two.”
“Ladies! What seems to have caught your attention? I detect some
concern on those pretty faces.”
I chuckle as I turn around to see Julian’s cousin, Edward Turner,
standing behind us. A plate full of raspberry filled donuts from the
breakfast buffet balanced precariously in one hand. “Well, hello
Edward. Is that the third plate of donuts that I see you walking
around with today?”
Edward grabs an empty chair from a nearby table and drags it over
to our side. He plops down on it with a grateful sigh. “What can I
say ladies; loneliness is the greatest hunger, and weddings of these
kind always serve to stimulate my appetite. Better the donuts, then,
rather than some helpless damsel who will inevitably fall for my witty
charms.”
Parker rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah; whatever. Listen, we need some
insider information from you.”
“Of course, anything.” Julian pops a donut into his mouth, “So,
what is it that has you so both so concerned?”
Parker leans forward conspiratorially. “What can you tell us about
Alister Turner?”
“Alister Turner?” Julian says the words loudly and I grimace. Parker
gestures for him to quiet down.
“Yes, Alister Turner. He’s finally here, and all Constance and I know
about him are rumors, most of which are probably untrue. We need
you to give us some real dirt.”
Edward chews slowly, with a confused look on his face. “But why
are the two of you so curious about him? If you’re afraid for your
safety, I can tell you right now that he’s not a serial killer, or any kind
of a creep.”
“We know that” Parker whispers. “But we want you to tell us who
he is, what he’s like, and most importantly, why the hell he’s been
living in some obscure corner of the world all this time.”
“Before I answer, I must repeat my earlier question to you both,”
Edward wipes a hand across his lips, cleaning off a smear of
raspberry sauce. “Why are the both of you so interested?”
“Fine, because Constance has a huge crush on him,” Parker says in
a monotone voice, without any shame or hesitance.
 I gasp in horror, my face swinging in her direction. “That is not true
Parker! Why would you say something like that?”
“Ahhhhh, now I get it.” Edward sets his plate of donuts down at
our table now that he’s found something even more appetizing. A
wide, mischievous smile spreads slowly across his face. He turns to
look at me, at my mortified expression. “So, you have the hots for
Julian’s big brother? Is that it, Constance?”
I d—don’t!” I stammer weakly, trying to keep the blood from rising
to my cheeks. But Edward knows exactly what he’s doing, little
rascal that he is. He ignores my protests and continues, turning his
voice low and seductive.
“He sure is a fine specimen, I’ll tell you that. In fact, between the
two of you, I think you’ll have some really beautiful babies,
Constance. Have you thought about it? I’m sure you have; you
must’ve at least wondered once what it would feel like to run your
hands over those smooth, hardened muscles….”
By this point, I am redder than the jam that is oozing out of the
donuts on our table. Turning to look at Parker, I find her laughing
soundlessly, her hands clamped across her lips.
“Very funny,” I snap. “Thanks for putting that image in my mind.
I’m sure my meeting with Alister won’t be awkward at all now, after
this little conversation.”
“Hey, don’t worry, Constance,” Edward murmurs in a teasing voice,
his eyes twinkling. “Haven’t you seen any of the greatest Rom-Coms
that were ever made? They all started with awkward encounters.”
He lays his hand over my own, as if to console me, but I can tell by
his expressions that his intentions are nothing but pure evil. “So just
remember; if you embarrass yourself horribly when you first meet
Alister, it’s only a sign from the universe that you’re meant to be
together.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re a real hoot, Edward.” I whip my hand away from
under his, half-angry and half-amused by the turn this conversation
has taken. Edward is the only other person in this entire hall who I
consider to be a good friend of mine, and the only Turner who I’ve
gotten to know really well. Parker and I first met him in an archery
class we decided to take on impulse a few years ago and were
instantly drawn to his goofy and innocent demeanor and his ability
to pull pranks on people every few minutes. Laughter doesn’t stop
when he is around. He was the one who later introduced Julian to
Parker randomly, bringing him along on a meet up one night. And
the rest, as they say, was history.
“Okay but seriously, Edward.” I fix my eyes on him, trying to
appear solemn. “All jokes aside, please don’t make things weird
when I’m being introduced to Alister. Really, I mean it. Don’t do it.”
Edward says nothing. He just continues to look at me, and that
impish grin on his face only widens, becoming infuriatingly larger
with every passing moment. After a couple of seconds, I can’t stop
myself, and my face cracks into a smile as well. Dammit. It’s
impossible for me to stay angry with him. He’s like that childish,
playful little brother who gets a pass for everything he does. So,
instead, I turn my attention towards Parker because she’s the one
who started all this.
“Thanks a lot, Parker,” I exclaim angrily. “Thanks for telling
everyone how I have a thing for the groom’s brother, even though I
literally just saw him for the first time ever 5 mins ago. I’m sure this
won’t make things weird at all, and I’m sure Edward here won’t say
anything to embarrass me, and by extension, you.”
Parker’s expression suddenly turns horrified. I feel a perverse
sense of satisfaction at having made her feel some regret. I continue
hotly. ‘Really, Parker, what were you thinking, telling Edward I’m
attracted to Alister? You know th—”
Right in the middle of my tirade, I stop. It’s Parker’s eyes that do
it. They’re still petrified, but they’re not looking at me. They’re
looking past me, at something or someone behind me. I turn
around, an—
—find Julian standing behind me, smiling at all of us. His jet-black
hair is slicked back and shining, and his eyes glitter. Did he hear us?
“Hello, everyone,” Julian says, “I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted a
gossiping session, but I want you all to meet the final member of the
Turner family. You remember my brother, Alister, that I might have
told you about? He’s finally here.”
The three of us all nod dumbly.
“We’ll be there in just a sec,” Parker says meekly, her face quite
similar in redness to mine. She doesn’t know if her soon-to-be-
husband heard her objectifying his little brother or not.
When Julian’s walked off, the three of us rise to our feet. Edward
runs a hand through his dark brown hair, patting down the cowlicks
at the end. “Constance and Parker,” he says to us, his tone serious.
“Jokes aside, I think there is one heads-up that I need to give to you
both. Alister’s kind of a reserved guy so don’t mistake that for
rudeness or hostility. He might come off as a bit cold or untalkative
at first, but trust me, beneath that hardened shell, you’ll find a really
sweet Turner, like all the rest.”
With those final words of wisdom, the three of us head off towards
the altar, where the Turner family members are waiting. My heart
throbs in my chest like a bass drum with every step I take, and it’s
very unnerving. My stomach is queasy and upset; it feels like the
pasta that I ate earlier has come to life, and I really hope I can keep
it all down.
I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I’m not a very shy person by
nature, and I have no connection at all with this guy. Then why am I
feeling so anxious?
The question is left unanswered. We walk up the steps to the altar
stage, and I raise my eyes to see the Turners standing there.
Julian’s father, John Turner, still wiry and athletic even past fifty,
with ashen hair and a thick beard, surveys us all and smiles kindly.
Next to him is his brother, Clay, with silver hair and a thin mustache.
He looks at Parker and winks—probably an inside joke between the
two. Standing next to the two brothers is Albert, another distant
relative with a slightly rotund figure. His eyes lock on mine and he
grins reassuringly. And there are other members too, more of the
Turner family, standing around in twos and threes, chatting idly.
And then there is Alister.
My eyes finally fall on him, and I feel a tiny arc of electricity race
down my spine. From up close, he appears even more………
unnatural. Almost like a painting, deliberately drawn to evoke awe
and arouse interest. His hair is the color of sand glittering on a
bright summer day, and his eyes are like dark whorls of mud or
chocolate, flecked in the center by specks of black. Compared to the
other Turners, he isn’t as broad or big, but it doesn’t matter. His
presence is still very dominant somehow. Although he stands
relaxed, with one hand jammed into his pocket, I can’t help but
think of a coiled spring as I look at him. There’s something in his
posture, something taut and alert like he’s expecting a war to break
out any moment.
“Parker, Constance; this is Alister, my oldest brother,” Julian
announces, pointing unnecessarily in Alister’s direction.
Alister’s eyes fall on Parker, and he nods once, a brief smile
appearing on his face. He then looks at me, and my heart skips a
beat. Why? I give him a tight-lipped smile.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I blurt out, trying to avoid awkwardness
and achieving the exact opposite.
“Likewise.” Alister’s voice is soft and unbothered. His gaze lingers
on me for an extra moment—or am I imagining it? And then he
turns back towards Julian as if awaiting further instructions.
“Well then…...” Julian claps his hands together, sensing the
awkwardness in the air and trying to dissipate it. “I’m sure we’ll all
have time to bond later. Right now, I think Alister wanted to go and
do a………. ahhh, security survey of the premises before we kick off
the ceremony. This man is such a workaholic he can’t even relax on
vacation. So, I’ll let him do that. Just wanted to introduce him to all
of you first.”
Alister walks forward past us with that same fluid, easy gait, as if
he’s sliding on ice, and then before I know it, he’s gone down the
stairs and is heading outside.
 My mind is swirling with questions. Security survey? Why does a
security survey need to be conducted now, at a wedding? And why
is Alister himself doing it? Why can’t the Turners trust the resort’s
security?
What are they afraid of?
 Chapter 2

Alister
 Who is that woman?
I stride out of the tent, my mind a disorienting jumble of thoughts
and emotions I do not understand. As my eyes flicker upwards and
towards the grey-skinned sky, however, the turmoil within me calms
down a bit, cooled by the lush beauty of this place. I have to give
Julian credit for this. His wife-to-be has spectacular taste when it
comes to destination weddings.
I am standing on a large lawn of freshly mown grass, with the
island’s exotic splendor sprawled out before me as far as the eye can
see. There are trees: massive, wide-trunked palm trees wherever I
look, thickening into forests to my East and West, their dense
greenness sparkling like emeralds wherever the occasional sunlight
hits them.
And behind me is the huge resort. A tall, gleaming structure of
steel and glass, poking out from the island’s bedrock like a giant,
mechanical finger. This is where all the guests will be staying. With a
spa, four separate swimming pools, two Michelin-rated restaurants
offering all kinds of cuisines, and the most luxurious, amenity-riddled
rooms, it truly is a one-of-a-kind experience.
And finally, right behind me is the hall where I just exited. The
place where all the guests are currently gathered to observe the
wedding ceremony that are soon to take place. It is the place where
my brother’s life will change forever, hopefully for the better. It is the
place where the Turner family will gain an additional member.
And it is the place where I saw her.
Her face rises in my mind and brings back those swirling, confusing
thoughts. Troubled, I retrain my focus back on my duties, and begin
walking forward to do what I came out here to do. Considering my
newly appointed role in the Turner family, it is crucial that I don’t
lose sight of the biggest priority.
There are three grey vans parked outside, and men ambling about
on the grass, lugging forth cases of beer and Jack Daniel’s whiskey
for the afterparty’s catering. I give each of them a scouring gaze,
searching for any suspicious signs or odd behavior.
Of course, I didn’t find anything. Not because there’s nothing to
find, but because my head isn’t totally in the game. Not anymore.
Not after my interaction with that woman with her coal-black hair
and hazel eyes. It feels like she’s been imprinted onto my retinas. No
matter where I look, I see her faint outline: the curls of her hair, her
dimpled smile, the slight awkwardness in her posture. The only thing
I want to do right now is go back in that hall and……….
Alister, stop. I shake my head to snap out of my daydream. Right
in front of me, on the further end of the road where the vans are
parked, I see two men loitering near the sidewalk.
Finally. There is some work to do.
Casually, I start strolling closer to them. My hands are jammed in
my pocket, and I’m whistling a soft tune. To any passerby, I look like
nothing more than some average guy out on a stroll on vacation.
The two men are engaged in a conversation, I notice as I get
closer. From this far away, it would be impossible to hear anything
they’re saying. Impossible, that is, for a regular human. But if only I
was just that.
One moment, I’m standing on the soft grass, hearing the sporadic
chirping of birds on nearby trees, the gentle thud of crates being put
down on the soil, and the clank of van doors opening and closing.
Everything is normal. And then, suddenly, as if a switch has been
flicked, it all changes.
I’m still standing there, in a relaxed posture, with that same bored,
absent look on my face. But now, I can hear the individual blades of
grass beneath my feet rustling in the mild wind. I can hear a cricket
some ten feet away burrowing into the dirt. And most importantly, I
can hear the two men who are standing far away from me on the
other side of the road. Their voices are clear now, as if somebody’s
attached a microphone to their mouths and given me the
headphones. They’re talking in hushed whispers like they don’t want
to be heard. But it doesn’t matter. To me, the sounds of their voices
are clear as a news broadcast.
“Did you get an update on the payment?” said the bald bearded
man with a large belly and cargo pants.
“No, they’re saying they’ll give it to us once the work has been
done.” His partner, a thin, lanky fellow wearing a baseball cap, looks
around suspiciously as if he’s somehow sensed that he’s being spied
upon.
“What! I told you to get the payment as soon as we provided the
service! What work do they have left?” The large, bald man
scratches his head in frustration and tramples a nearby flower with
his foot.
“I’ll be damned if I know, Fred. Heck, I don’t think I even want to
know all they have planned. I just want my money, and then I
wanna get the hell off this island.”
 “You should’ve got the money from them at the start, then. You
should’ve insisted on it.”
The tall, thin fellow looks up in surprise. Although I’m not looking
at him directly, I can tell that he’s giving the other man an irritated
and panicked look.
“Insisted? Fred, I think you’ve forgotten what those people were
like the last time we met them. I’m pretty sure you don’t insist on
anything with these kinds of people, not unless you want to be……….
terminated………from employment. Permanently.”
The conversation is cut off right then as the two men’s transport
arrives. It’s another grey van, with the driver beeping the horn and
gesturing for them to climb in. Together, the two walk towards the
vehicle, and then it drives off with them, leaving me in stunned
silence, with alarm bells ringing in my head.
What was that about? Every fiber of my body is screaming that
something is seriously off and that the wedding needs to be
cancelled. This is precisely the reason why I was so reluctant to
come here in the first place. There was always a small possibility of
the worst happening……. But then again, maybe all I witnessed were
just two employees dramatizing a particularly scary boss, and
nothing more. It’ll be a huge disappointment if I alert everyone to a
false threat and spoil this perfect day for Julian. I know how much
he’s looking forward to this.
Hmmmm. Decisions, decisions.
There’s only one thing left to do then, under these circumstances.
I’ll have to do a quick survey of the entire island to make sure that
everything is on the up and up.
 Taking a deep breath, I begin to jog lightly towards a cluster of
trees to my east that marks the entrance to the island’s forest. A few
men in the catering crew turn to give me odd looks as I pass—I
must look a little weird. A man in a suit and tie running through the
grass. But then again, I’m sure they’ve seen weirder things in their
lives at weddings. The human race does not fail to disappoint in this
regard.
As soon as I’ve entered the barricade of trees, I increase my pace
to a sprint. Straight ahead, I run, jumping over fallen logs and
crunching pine leaves underfoot, my breath coming out in short
gasps and the cool wind pelting my face. After traveling a sufficient
distance, I stop and look around, ensuring I am all alone.
And then I begin to take off my clothes.
If someone saw me right now, the wedding being canceled would
be the least of my worries. But I know that I’m not going to find
anyone here. Not anyone human, that is, anyways.
Once I’ve stripped and laid all my clothes in a neat pile next to a
tree, I begin to run again, this time much faster than before. And as
I do, I feel something within me….. shifting, waking from a long
bout of sleep. At first, there are just groggy tendrils of consciousness
probing my mind. But then it slowly begins to grow alert. Its
awareness rises, and I feel someone or something else inside of me
slowly unfurl, its consciousness merging with my own.
Then the change happens.
How best to describe it? I’ve undergone this change so many times
ever since I was informed of my gift—or curse, or whatever the hell
this is. But every single time, it never fails to be just as exhilarating
and overwhelming as the first time it happened.
My muscles knot and twist inside me. There are popping sounds,
and then they expand, becoming bulky and powerful. I feel my
bones grinding, turning sturdier with every passing second as their
structure changes. My mouth elongates, and my gums prickle as my
teeth strengthen and elongate. My hands are no longer my hands
but ferocious, muscled paws. The claws at their tips glinting like
sharpened knives. My body, which used to be pale and hairless, is
now covered in a thick robe of pitch-black fur. My eyes are an
intimidating yellow, glittering viciously like topaz jewels in the
forest’s dim shade. I am no longer running on two feet but on four,
and my speed is unmatched, unparalleled. There is no enemy who
can face me, no prey who can hope to escape me. I must move
cautiously to stay concealed due to my massive size. I may now
have the look of a regular wolf, but I am four times their size.
I am Alister the Alpha of the Turner Pack.
I pant, wending at astonishing speed past trees and boulders, my
eyes scanning the surroundings for anything unusual. The trees and
the ground are nothing but a brownish-green blur at this point, but
my hyper-sensitive pupils can still detect objects or movement.
A familiar airy voice comes from the back of my mind, “Protect
her.”
As if on cue, I see Constance in mind’s eye, but she’s just a human
woman, nothing more. I leap over two fallen logs like lightning, my
feet scratching the wood and startling a pair of rabbits out of their
den.
 “Ours… protect our mate.”
What? She is not ours and I felt nothing for her. Perhaps trying to
convince myself more than anyone else. I dart past a tree and my
body drags against a cluster of branches, snapping them like twigs.
I feel anxious pressure pushing at the edges of my mind, my wolf
demanding attention to what he is trying to convey.
“Arghhh!” I roar with a mix of anger and frustration, bursting out
of the forest and onto the sandy, beachy ground. The sea swells and
churns not more than five feet away from me, its waters a deep,
enigmatic blue.
The wolf consciousness calms and is silent but it is not backing
down from this.
The beach is empty too, I realize as I cross its length in less than a
couple of minutes. Leaves only a couple of the more prominent
locations to scout, and then I’ll be done.
“Look, I’ll prove it to you,” I snap angrily. “I’ll talk to her again later
today after I’m done surveying the island. And when I feel absolutely
nothing for her, then you’ll know how wrong you were.”
All that I get in return is a calm but firm, “Mate.”
I’ve now reached a rocky outcropping of boulders that comprise
the island’s cliff. Over the cliff’s edge, there is a sheer drop below
into even more jagged rocks that, from a distance, look like the
Earth’s teeth waiting to devour you. I slow down a notch and trot
over the edgy surfaces more carefully, my eyes searching the
landscape for any suspicious visitors.
I need to focus. As pack Alpha, it is my job to ensure that there
are zero threats present on this island. Now, what about the
conversation I overheard earlier?
Threat.
This time, my wolfs tone was much more serious and concerned
and I can only agree with him.
I grunt, climbing over the last of the rocks onto smooth ground,
and looking around one last time to find more of the same nothing.
If there is an attack of some sort being planned, we need to know
as much as we can beforehand if we want any chance of survival.
Julian and the other Turners have entrusted me with their safety,
with their lives. I cannot betray that trust and waste all those last
few years I spent away in training for this role as pack leader.

I return to the hotel now that I’ve scouted the island, finding nothing
more to support my concerns from earlier. Of course, since any
pressing worries have been temporarily removed from my mind,
there’s only room left for one thing.
As I bound back through the trees, her hesitant smile flickers like
an apparition before me. I think about those curling locks of hair,
those bright eyes, that tender smile. I hear my wolf words echo in
my ears again, and for the first time, I wonder if they are true. If my
attraction towards her is indeed real, and is happening partly
because………
No. That can’t be possible.
Surely not.
Right?
 Chapter 3

Constance
 “Did this guy go outside to check security or run a marathon?”
Parker mutters beside me.
I cannot help but agree. Every time I think the Turner family can’t
get any stranger or shadier, they prove me wrong. And here is the
latest evidence. I watch Alister from the corner of my eyes as he re-
enters the hall and glances around. His dark blue suit is hanging
open by his sides, and the top two buttons of his white shirt are
undone. Sweat glistens on the topmost exposed part of his chest,
and his collarbones. His hair, which was silken and smooth the last
time I saw it, is now clinging to his forehead in damp strands. His
face is flushed, and nowhere is this more visible than on his lips,
which are just a shade away from scarlet. As my eyes fall on them, I
cannot make myself look away. For a few seconds, their soft, supple
redness has me entranced, and I wonder what it will feel like
to……….
“Constance!”
I’m startled at the sound of Parker’s voice. She’s giving me a
knowing look. “If you’re going to have the hots for him, at least be a
little subtle about it. It’s rude to openly ogle people like this, no
matter how deliciously golden and lean-muscled they may be.”
“I don’t…...” I stop midway and sigh, not bothering to defend
myself. “Forget about me, Parker. I think it’s you who should be a
little concerned. Are you sure you’re ready to join a family that is so
chockful of secrets? Who knows, maybe there’s another mysterious
brother or stepbrother waiting out there.”
Parker’s brows furrow at my words. I can tell I’ve hit a nerve.
 “Yes, you’re right,” she mutters a little tightly. “I’ll have to talk to
Julian about this and ask him to come clean. I mean, why does he
have a brother who no one seems to know anything about, and why
is that brother randomly going for security surveys at a wedding, of
all places?”
“Maybe they’re actually a group of secret assassins,” I joke, but
then see Parker wince at my words.
“Oh God, I hope that’s not true,” she whispers mournfully. “I don’t
want Julian coming home every night with a bloodied shirt. Getting
the stains out is a nightmare.”
“Yes, my dear,” I comment dryly. “When getting married into a
family full of murderous thugs, figuring out how to do the laundry is
the biggest concern.”
Parker splays her hands in obvious agreement. “I mean, what
other problem is there, apart from that? I don’t really mind Julian
being a secret killer, to be honest. In fact, I’ve heard that it’s actually
the criminals who are the most adventurous when it comes to their
nighttime activities…”
“You fiend.” I pick up a napkin and throw it in Parker’s direction.
She laughs and slaps it away.
“But on a serious note,” she continues, sobering up a little. “I
honestly hope there’s no big secret, nothing really embarrassing that
they’re hiding from me. You know how much I value trust in a
relationship.”
I place my hand over Parker’s and squeeze reassuringly. “Hey,
don’t worry,” I whisper softly to her. “It’ll be nothing, really. At worst,
you’ll just find out that Julian likes planning secret orgies every
month. So what? What’s so bad about that? Maybe you can even
join him sometimes.”
Parker gapes at me in undisguised horror. I chuckle gleefully and
dart to the left to avoid the oncoming barrage of napkins she’s
hurling my way.
“You, young people, are such a civilized lot,” a gravelly voice
speaks from behind me. “In my days, napkins were the last thing we
would think of throwing at each other at a wedding.”
I turn around to find Albert Turner standing behind us, looking
amused.
“Albert,” I smile at him, gesturing to a seat beside me. “Why don’t
you sit with us a moment?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Albert drags out the chair and turns it,
so it is facing both of us, before sitting down on it. “So, what was
the reason for this little war that I just witnessed between you two?”
Parker gives me a scathing look, and I grin innocently in response.
“Constance here was saying some very unladylike things,” she says
tersely.
Albert’s thick, grey brows lift in mock-surprise. He turns to me.
“Really? Constance doesn’t seem like the kind of person to do
something of that sort.”
“I didn’t do any such thing, Albert,” I flash him my most disarming
smile, “Parker is just worried about the sudden addition to the
Turner family, and she’s taking her frustration out on her best
friend.”
“New addition? Who?” Before I can reply, realization dawns on
Albert’s face. “Oh, you mean Alister?’ He chuckles lightly. “Alister
isn’t a new addition, my dear. He’s been by Julian’s side from the
very beginning. He’s just as close to the Turner family as anyone
else, if not even closer.”
“Then why doesn’t anyone tell me anything about him? Like where
he’s been for the past few years, and why he’s here now?” Parker’s
voice comes out exasperated, but it doesn’t bother Albert. He gives
her a kind, understanding smile, the smile of an elder who knows
what you’re going through fully well.
“I know you’re confused, Parker, my dear. But trust me, there is
nothing Julian would hide from you if it didn’t include your own
wellbeing. You know how much he loves you and he’d be willing to
die for you in a split-second, no questions asked, if it ever came to
that.”
Parker’s expression softens. Of course, she loves Julian too, always
has; this wedding wouldn’t have been happening if there wasn’t
complete trust between the two.
Before the conversation can continue further, I spot Edward
skipping towards us from the distance. He stops at Parker’s side, and
I see that his eyes are wide and alight.
“Guys!” Julian announces the word brimming with excitement. “It’s
finally time for the ceremony.”
Parker’s eyes lock onto mine, and an unspoken exchange of
emotions takes place between us.
This is it. From discussing teenage boys to college crushes and
now finally standing at a wedding, we’ve come a long way. Parker
and Albert rise from their chairs. Albert ushers her in the altar’s
direction, and I follow behind him.
 It is a magical moment, much more magical than the way all those
Hollywood films show it, though I could never have imagined it. The
commotion in the hall slowly dwindles away into silence as all of the
guests take their seats to watch it unfold.
Slowly, step-by-step, as if she is a delicate figurine of glass, Parker
makes her way down the aisle. Her soft-white gown trails the floor
around her, its sequined fabric shining in the light of the chandeliers.
My eyes fall to Julian at the look of wonderment on his face as he
watches his bride approach, and despite myself, my stomach twists
sorrowfully. But now is not the time for this. Now is the time to be
happy for my friend, who is celebrating one of the most important
occasions of her life.
Finally, the bride manages to reach the altar and stands opposite
the groom, both their expressions dancing with a mix of joy,
anticipation, and nervousness. The priest walks forth until he is
between them. I clasp my hands together, trying to fight the tears
that will surely come at any moment.
“Julian Turner,” the priest proclaims in a loud, reverberating voice.
“Do you take Parker Cane as your lawfully wedded wife, and vow to
always love her, in both sickness and health, as long as you both
shall live?”
There is stillness in the auditorium. At moments like these, it
always feels like a portal has opened somewhere and a tiny bit of
magic has seeped through into our mundane reality. You can almost
sense the air crackling with it. Julian looks at Parker, and his eyes
are filled with such adoration that for a split second, I feel a pang of
loneliness. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve been with someone
who I can call my own.
“I do.” Julian almost whispers the words, but I know everyone has
heard him.
“Parker Cane,” the priest booms again in that same amplified tone.
“Do you take Julian Turner as your lawfully wedded husband and
vow to love him, in both sickness and health, as long as you both
shall live?”
Parker takes a deep breath. She opens her mouth. She begins to
speak but is cut short by a scream.
A loud scream, blood curdling scream.
For a few seconds, no one does anything because there is just
stunned confusion. And then the hall erupts into chaos. People rise
from their seats, their faces filled with confusion. The Turner
members almost jump to their feet, as if they had been expecting
something like this. I spot Alister running down the aisle and
towards the exit, his face grim and hard. And all the while, the
woman’s shrieks continue, echoing in the hallway, filled with raw,
unfiltered terror.
By the time I manage to make my way outside, a small crowd has
already gathered. I push my way past people, muttering apologies,
shouldering through men who refuse to budge, and finally reaching
the front of the crowd, where I look down and find—
—Edward. He is lying on the ground.
Dead.
His wide, glassy eyes are staring up at the sky in a look of surprise,
as if Death came without scheduling an appointment. As if he had
been certain that he would at least get to see his cousin getting
betrothed before fate called for him to depart from this world.
It’s like the world slows down and the loudest thing is my rapid,
pounding heartbeat in my ears.
The shock is too much for me, and I fall to my knees, my body
toppling over. But instead of hitting the grass, I feel strong, steading
hands gently grabbing my shoulders and keeping me in place. I
don’t turn to see who it is that has steadied me. I can’t. My eyes are
fixed on Edward’s body and with every passing second the sicker I
become as I see more grewsome details emerge before me.
There is a wide wound running down the length of his neck, too
broad to have been made with a knife. It’s almost like someone took
a cleaver and began hacking away maniacally. But that isn’t the only
damage that has been done. Edward’s shirt is also partly torn open,
and there are………. bite marks on his chest. Deep, crimson gashes
decorate his skin, with blood gushing from them in streams and
staining the grass below. Edward’s white shirt is almost entirely
coated with his blood. It’s his expression that finally does it for me.
Those slightly parted lips forming a surprised ‘O’. Lips that will never
smile again. A mouth that will never again open to make jokes or
insults.
My body takes over, breaking my fixed gaze and I start heaving.
But nothing comes out of me. My eyes watering but my mouth is dry
and empty, save for the bile that rises in my throat every time I
picture Edward in my mind.
I don’t know how long I remain there, with those strange arms
encircling me, providing support and a tiny measure of comfort. All
around me, the shocked screams and cries take a long while to
subside. When they do, I look up again and through my tear-
streaked vision, find the Turners standing around me, their faces
white and stricken. I turn around to look at the owner of the hands
that have been holding me and find Alister looking ahead solemnly, a
single vein pulsing in his neck. His eyes are even stormier than
before, and because I am so close to him, I can sense a rage
emanating from him: a quiet, volcanic rage threatening to burst at
any moment. Parker is standing at one of the corners with Julian,
sobbing in his arms. Albert is looking over at me, his expression
laced with shock and anguish.
How did this happen? There is only confusion within me.
Unbridled, unrestrained confusion.
Finally finding some strength, I gently shrug off Alister’s arms and
rise to my feet. Overhead, the sky frowns down at us, scrunching
the clouds into tight ropes of grey. A chilling wind blows mercilessly.
Edward is gone, but the world still continues to spin on. Even though
it has no right to.
Affirming myself again, I turn to look at Edward for the last time
with tears in my eyes.
Oh, my poor friend. It looks like a wild animal massacred him,
maybe a pack of leopards or tigers. Or wolves.
The thought of what happened is still revolving in my mind when I
see Alister step to the front of the crowd. He gestures for everyone’s
attention. And then, when he speaks, I am left even more surprised
than before, though I did not think that was possible.
 “Listen up, everyone!” Alister shouts to the crowd, his voice
carrying effortlessly, his face stone-hard and determined. “Your
safety is at risk! Please step back inside the halls and remain there
until further notice!” And then he says those final words, the words
that leave me reeling in shock and disbelief.
“There is a killer somewhere on this island.”
 Chapter 4

Alister
Another random document with
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184.

Il bel verde, sottil marmo caristo,

L’agata, il tasio e la gentil corniola,
Non han qui luogo, e di restarne escluso
Lagnasi ancora il serpentin più raro:
Sol qui fan pompa e il porporin granito
Porfido di Numidia e il marmo frigio
Cui d’Ati il sangue colorì la vena;
E i più preziosi di Sidonia e Tiro.
Per ornamento delle porte, appena
S’ammette il verde di Laconia unito
Al sinadico marmo in lunghe strisce,
Onde si forma un color misto e vago.
De’ chiari vetri al vario raggio opposte
Splendon le stanze e gli archi d’or fregiati,
E di chi parte od entra in essi i volti
Stupido il foco stesso in tante avvolto
Lucide spoglie men superbo impera;
Il sole allor che l’ampia casa investe
Sè stesso adorna e fa più chiaro il giorno,
E nel passar fra queste fiamme ardenti
Acquista forza, e ’l proprio foco accresce.
Nulla v’è di plebeo, nè qui si vide
Faticar l’arte in liquefar metalli.
Son d’argento i canali, ove felice
Ha l’onda il corso e son d’argento i vasi
Ov’ella cade, e di sè stessa amante
Si specchia in essi e di partir ricusa.
Trad. dell’ab. Fr. Maria Biacca.

185.

Chi di Neron peggiore?

E quale di sue terme opra migliore?
Trad. Magenta.

186.

Di Tigellin nei bagni, o in quei si pone

D’Agrippa o Tito?

187. Roma. Amstelodami apud Io. Wolters 1689, p. 491.

188. Diz. delle antich. Greche e Rom. Vol. 2 p. 342.

189. «Che mai convenga provvedere nelle pubbliche terme e ne’ ninfei per
l’abbondanza de’ cittadini.» — Impp. Theodos. et Valent. Cod. II. 42. 5 e
al n. 6: «Amiam meglio che l’acquedotto del nostro palazzo abbia a
servire alle commodità delle pubbliche terme e de’ ninfei.»

190. «Se diligentemente alcuno avesse a tener conto delle copiose acque
pubbliche nei bagni, nelle piscine, nelle case, negli sbocchi, nelle ville
suburbane, e la grandezza degli archi costruiti per condurre, i monti
scavati, le convalli appianate, confessar dovrebbe nulla esservi di più
maraviglioso nell’universo.»

191. «Agrippa, nella sua edilità, annessa l’Acqua Vergine, le altre regolate ed
emendate, fece 700 laghi (grandi serbatoj), oltre 105 salti, 130 castelli e
molte altre cose magnifiche di manutenzione. Alle opere impose 300
statue tra di bronzo e di marmo e 400 colonne marmoree e tutte queste
cose nel solo spazio di un anno.»

192. «E il soprintendente delle acque debbe pertanto essere non solo diretto
dalla scienza del periti, ma eziandio dalla propria esperienza, e non
deve servirsi dei soliti architetti che s’impiegano in quella tal parte, ma
ancora consultare non meno la fedeltà che l’acutezza dell’ingegno di
altri per conoscere quali cose domandino un pronto riparo, quali
ammettano dilazione; quali opere debbansi compire dagli appaltatori,
quali si abbiano a far eseguire dagli artefici delle famiglie.»
Frontin. De Aquæduct. CXIX. Tr. di Baldassare Orsini.

193. Pompejanarum Antiquitatem Historia Curante, J. Fiorelli edita. Neapoli

1860. I. 8.

194. «Nelle Terme di Marco Frugio, da bagni di acqua marina e di acqua

dolce, Gennaro Liberto.»

195. «Per la dedicazione delle terme, a spesa di Cneo Allejo Nigidio Majo, vi
saranno caccia, atleti, spargimento di profumi e velario. Viva Majo
principe della Colonia!»

196.

Per finirla, tu re, mentre ne andrai

Al bagno d’un quattrin. [197]
Trad. Gargallo.
197. Quadrante più propriamente, ed era una piccola moneta di rame pari in
valore di un asse.

198.

Dopo i torridi bagni vi tuffate

Nell’onda algente, onde così col gelo
La calda cute più in vigor rendiate
Carm. IX.

Petronio afferma la stessa cosa.

199. «Marco Nigidio Vaccula con denaro proprio.»

200. «Gneo Melisseo Apro; figlio di Gneo, e Marco Stajo Rufo, figlio di Marco,
Duumviri incaricati di nuovo della giustizia, hanno per decreto de’
decurioni e con pecunia publica fatto fare questo bacino che costa
settecentocinquanta sesterzi.» [201]

201. Circa 160 lire Italiane.

202. Era una stanza ove apprendevano i giovani i primi rudimenti degli
esercizi ginnastici.

203. Forse luogo dove giuocavasi alla palla. Alcuni lo vorrebbero destinato
agli esercizi ginnastici per le fanciulle.

204. Ho già spiegato altrove il valore di questa parola: indicava cioè il luogo
ove stava la polvere di cui servivansi i lottatori onde detergere il sudore
e involgere l’avversario per poterlo meglio abbrancare.

205. Era la stanza delle unzioni. Vi si conservavano a tal uopo olj ed

unguenti, sia per ungersi prima della lotta e rendere così le membra
sfuggevoli; sia dopo la lotta a ristoro delle membra scalfitte, sia come
cura prima di entrare nel bagno. Il P. Ilario Casarotti, dotto e purgato
scrittore e mio maestro nel milanese Collegio Calchi-Taeggi, solevami
dire essere da questa antica consuetudine originata l’unzione della
cresima cristiana, quasi a simbolo della lotta coll’avversario eterno.

206. Forse sinonimo di hypocausis, più latinamente præfurnium, luogo della

fornace per riscaldare le stanze e i bagni.

207. Ricordo che lo stadio denota una lunghezza di 125 passi; ma vale altresì
come luogo atto agli esercizi atletici e per gli spettatori dei medesimi.
208. Non isfuggirà al lettore che Vitruvio usa della parola sisto per esprimere
l’opposto del suo valore primitivo greco. Infatti i latini chiamarono sisto
un luogo scoperto mentre per i greci significava un luogo coperto.

209. De Architect. L. V. c. XI. Trad. Galiani.

210. «Cajo Vulio figlio di Cajo, Publio Aninio figlio di Cajo, duumviri, incaricati
della giustizia, han fatto eseguire un laconico e un districtario e rifare i
portici e la palestra col denaro che, per decreto dei decurioni, dovevano
spendere in giuochi od in monumento, e i decurioni hanno approvato.»
Pompejan. Antiqu. Hist. V. 648. È testuale l’error grammaticale
nell’iscrizione pequnia quod invece di pecunia quam; ma non è il primo,
nè forse sarà l’ultimo che avrò a notare.

211. «Mi pare ora, ancorchè non sieno di moda italiana, dovere spiegare la
forma della palestra, e dimostrare come la costruiscano i Greci.» De
Arch. c. XI.

212. «Mario Atinio figlio di Mario, questore, fece fare per decreto
dell’Assemblea col denaro prodotto dalle multe.»

213. «All’imperatore Cesare Augusto, figlio del divo Cesare, comandante per
la tredicesima, tribuno per la decimaquinta, padre della patria, console
per l’undicesima volta.» [214]

214. Il XV tribunato e l’XI consolato d’Augusto corrispondono all’anno di

Roma 755 e 2 dell’Era Volgare.

215.

. . . : Va recami, garzone,
Le stregghie al bagno di Crispin.
Sat. V. v. 126. Trad. di Vinc. Monti.

216.

Il Sarno ondoso i pingui colti irriga

E col placido corso al mar sospira.
Jacobi Sannazzarii Poemata. Patavii 1751.
Trajano Cabanilio Salices.

217. «Verna co’ suoi discepoli vi prega di eleggere Cajo Capella duumviro di
giustizia.»

218. Pompejan. Antiqu. Hist. Vol. III, 169.

219. «Valentino e i suoi scolari invocano Sabino e Rufo edili degni della
Republica.»

220. Epist. Lib. II, I. 70.

221.

E ancor noi finalmente abbiam sottratto

La mano alle spalmate.

222. Lib. VII. c. 3.

223. Del Commercio dei Romani, Cap. III.

224. Hist. Nat. Lib. VI. c. 60.

225. Vedi Cicero, De Oratore, 37.

226. Cic. Pro Flacco. 15. Dionis. Alicarnas. VII. 70.

227. Plin. Nat. Hist. XIII. 13. «Abbruciati, perchè fossero scritti di filosofia.»

228. Epist. II. 1.

229.

Questi Greci, ravvolti in lor mantello,

Colla testa coperta, intorno vanno:
Son carichi di libri e ne’ panieri
Hanno i rilievi della mensa: or questi
Disertor’ ch’hanno l’aria di trattare
Fra lor di cose gravi, ora s’arrestano,
Ora vanno, sputando lor sentenze;
Ma poi li trovi sempre al termopolio [230]
Che trincan e così, coperto il capo,
Bevono caldo quel ch’hanno rubato,
Poi tristi e brilli incedono.
Curculio. Atto II. Sc. 3. Mia trad.

230. Venditorio di bevande calde, come vedremo nel capitolo venturo delle
Tabernæ.

231. «Essere i nostri uomini simili agli schiavi siri, che quanto son più periti
del greco, tanto sono più nequitosi.»
232.

Chi loda il carme salïar di Numa

E dotto ei solo in quel, che meco ignora,
Vuolsi ostentar, non favorisce, e applaude
Gli estinti ingegni; ma nostr’opre impugna,
Le cose nostre, e noi livido adonta.
Che se stata odïosa a’ Greci fosse
Novità, quanto a noi, che avrian di antico?
Degli uomini a ciascuno il public’uso
Or che darebbe a logorar, leggendo?
Epist. lib. II. Epist. I.

233. Divina Comm. Inf. c. IV.

234. In Bruto.

235.

Voi su greci esemplar’ la man stancate

La notte, voi le man stancate il giorno.
De Arte Poetica. Tr. id.

236. Lib. 11.

237. Satira I.

238. Epigr. Lib. 2.

239. Lib. 3, epist. 5.

240. Lib. 1, cap. 9.

241.

Medico fosti, gladiator se’ omai;

E medico facevi
Appunto quel che gladiatore or fai.
Epigr. VIII. Lib. 74. — Tr. Magenta.

242. Primum e medicis venisse Romam Peloponneso Archagatum Lysaniæ

filium anno urbis DXXXV... Vulnerarium eum fuisse e re dictum, etc. Hist.
Nat. lib. XX. c. 6.
 Tum primum artis medicæ nomen auditum Romæ agnitumque est. Tit.
Liv. Lib. XXV. 2.

243. «Giurarono fra loro i Barbari (chiamavano i Romani barbari i forestieri) di

uccider tutti colla medicina. E questo fanno, ripetendo per sopraggiunta
la mercede, onde acquistar maggior credenza e più agevolmente
sperdere. Vanno inoltre dicendo noi barbari e più sporcamente con
siffatta appellazione noi insozzano che non gli altri Opici. In quanto a
me, mi sono interdetto i medici.» Hist. Nat. XXIX. 1.

244. I libri superstiti sono dal VI al XIV e sono una compilazione per via
d’estratti, di cui avanza tuttavia una parte sulla medicina e la chirurgia;
abbracciava molte scienze, come la giurisprudenza, la filosofia, la
rettorica, l’economia, l’arte militare. Sono scritti con purità di stile e sono
di gran pregio segnatamente le istruzioni dietetiche e la parte che ha
riferimento alla chirurgia.

245.

E ormai da un pezzo
Tua vota zucca le ventose invoca.
Sat. XIV. v. 58, trad. Gargallo.

246. Celsus, lib. 11.

247. Storia degli Italiani, I. 1, c. XLI.

248. «Udite per tanto, ma non ascoltate come fareste d’un farmacista.
Imperocchè le parole di costui si odono, ma nessuno che malato sia gli
si commette in cura.» Gell. Notti Att. 1. 15.

249. Vedi tutta l’ultima Ode degli Epodi di Orazio, che è appunto rivolta a
Canidia.

250. Pompei, pag. 350.

251. «I nostri maggiori così lodavano l’uomo dabbene, chiamandolo buon

agricoltore, buon colono, e stimavasi essere amplissimamente lodato
colui che così chiamavasi.»

252. Lib. III. 22:

Terra più ch’alla offesa, all’armi adatta.

253. «Razza d’uomini agreste, senza legge e comando, libero e
indipendente.»

254. «Ire incontro ai nemici, e coprire dagli avversi attacchi la libertà, la

patria, ed i parenti.» Catilin. 6.

255. Epoca Prima. Capitolo I.

256. «Il valor militare va innanzi a tutte l’altre virtù: esso procacciò eterna
gloria al popolo romano ed a codesta città.» Or. pro Murena.

257. «Rimase chiusa in casa e filò la lana.»

258. Lib. III. c. 22. 23. 24.

259. Zonara. Lib. VIII. c. 6.

260. Or. Pro Lege Manilia.

261. Freret le assegna 13,549 piedi geometrici di circonferenza, che sarebbe

maggiore di quella dell’odierna Parigi. Jacob vuole che avesse solo
1,200,000 abitanti; ma altri eruditi pretesero ampiezza e popolazione
maggiori e com’io scrissi.

262.

Mandaci o Nil, le messi tue copiose,

Da noi ricevi le fragranti rose.

263.

Degli Etiopi le selve, ove la lana

Morbida cresce.

264. «In tutta guisa estorcono denaro e molestano; ma per quanta libidine
spieghino, non giungono ad esaurire mai la ricchezza loro.» De Bello
Catilin.

265. «Pessima cosa è il coltivarsi i campi da gente d’ergastolo, perchè tutto vi

si fa da uomini che non hanno speranza alcuna.» Hist. Natur. Ho già
altrove detto che gli schiavi assegnati alla coltura delle terre si tenessero
duramente e incatenati negli ergastoli.

266.
 Gli arditi rivenduglioli
Avean già tutte le contrade invase,
E sin gli usci turavano alle case.
Tu, di sgombrar, Germanico,
Quegli spazii ordinasti, e in larga via
Si cangiarono i vicoli di pria.
Da incatenate bombole
Or più nessun pilastro interno è stretto;
Nè più il pretor nel fango è agir costretto.
Fra densa moltitudine
Non più il cieco rasojo alzasi, e tutti
Da bettole non sono i calli ostrutti.
Ebbe il barbier suoi limiti,
L’oste, il cuoco, il beccajo: in Roma or stanzi:
In una gran taverna eri poc’anzi.
Epig. Lib. VII 61. Trad. Magenta.

267. Pœnulus. 4. 2. 13:

E si mangia e si bee come in popina.

268.

Siccome il pan dal panattier cerchiamo,

Dall’enopolio il vino, e se il denaro
Loro si dà, cedon la merce.
Act. 1. x. 3.

269. «Qui dimora la felicità.»

270. Paris, Michel Lévy Frères, 1872.

271. Cic. Philip. XII, 9, De Senectute 23. — T. Liv. 28.

272. Cic. Philip. II, 28; Plaut. Pœnulus, att. IV, sc. 2.

273. Descrizione delle Rovine di Pompei, dell’arch. Gaspare Vinci. Terza

edizione, Napoli, pag. 68.

274. «Sittio riparò l’Elefante.» Nell’iscrizione è scorrettamente ommessa la

lettera H in capo alla parola elephantum. Qui poi mal si comprende se
Sittio sia stato il proprietario dell’Albergo o il pittore che ne ristorasse
l’insegna. Par più probabile la prima ipotesi.
275. «Albergo: qui si dà in affitto un triclinio con tre letti e colle relative
commodità.»

276. «Marco Furio Pila invita Marco Tullio.» Altri legge tvtillvm.

277.

PSEUDOLO

V’hanno dolci bevande ad abbondanza?

CARINO

E tu il domandi? Havvi del vin mirrato,

Del vin cotto, idromele e d’ogni miele:
Anzi, già un dì fin nel suo cuore aveva
Un termopolio aperto.
Pseudolus Act. II Sc. IV.

278. Pallad. 1. 42.

279. «Nè di giorno soltanto, ma quasi tutta l’intera notte con non interrotto
volger di macchine producevano continua farina.» Apulej. Metam. Lib.
IX.

280. Così ce li descrive Apulejo. Metam. Lib. I. X.

281.

LIBANO

Forse mi meni là dove una pietra

Stritola l’altra pietra?

DEMENETO

Or che è codesto?
Dove è mai questo luogo in su la terra?

LIBANO

Dove piangon quegli uomini infelici,

Che di polenta cibansi.
Asinaria At. I. 4. 1. V. 16-18.
282. «Plauto fu pistore, avendo locato la propria opera a gran mole a mano.
Perocchè codesto pestamento e fatica di stritolar grani fosse la più
grave di tutte, e si dicesse il pistrino un luogo pieno di fatica e travaglio e
che distruggeva le forze.»

283. Pur ne’ tempi moderni v’ebbero e v’hanno re, che attesero a mestieri
volgari. Si sa di Luigi XVI abilissimo nell’orologeria e fabbro
espertissimo; e il Principe ereditario dell’attuale imperatore di Germania
si perfezionò ne’ rudi lavori fabbrili, e i giornali di questi giorni recarono
che il di lui fratello minore s’applicò all’arte di legare i libri.

284. Nuova serie, n. 3 ottobre 1868, colonna 57.

285. «Talamo cliente invoca P. Paquio Proculo duumviro incaricato della

Giustizia.»

286. Anche nelle Metamorfosi d’Ovidio, così vien immaginata dal Poeta la
sua Bibli nell’atto che medita la propria lettera a Cauno:

Dextra tenet ferrum, vacuam tenet altera ceram.

Lib. IX v. 520.

287. Metam. Lib. X.

288. Giornale degli Scavi, 1861, p. 106.

289. «Tutti i fruttivendoli con Elvio Vestale supplicano Marco Olconio Prisco
duumviro di Giustizia.»

290. Lib. XIII. 55, Svet. in Augustum, 4.

291. Storia della Prostituzione, Cap. XXI.

292.

Perchè, per fede mia, olezza bene

La donna allor che di niente olezza.
Però che quelle vecchie che sè stesse
Vanno d’unguenti ognor impiastricciando,
Decrepite, sdentate e di lor corpo,
Col belletto occultando i rei difetti,
Quando il sudor sen mischia, incontanente
Putono al par d’intingolo malvagio
In cui confuse molte salse il cuoco.
Di che odoran non sai, se non di questo
 Che di pessimo odor puton, comprendi.
Atto I, Sc. 3, v. 116 e segg.

293.

Numi immortali, almen trovassi in casa

Perifane, mi son quasi disfatto
A cercarlo per tutta la città:
Nelle botteghe mediche ed in quelle
Del barbier, nel ginnasio, in tutto il foro,
Da’ profumieri, da beccai, dappresso
I banchieri e, col chiederne, la voce
Ho fatta rauca.
Atto II. Sc. 2, 12 e segg.

294.

Tu conoscesti la barbiera nostra,

Sura, ch’ora soggiorna appresso a quelle
Case.
Atto II, Sc. 4, v. 51.

295.

. . . . ma non mai
Tal barbiera, Ammian, rade. — Mi svela
Che fa ella dunque se non rade? — Pela.
Mart. Epigr. lib. II, ep. 17. Tr. Magenta.

296.

Pria che la man d’Eutrapelo sia giunta

Le guance e il mento di Luperco a radere,
In volto a questo un’altra barba spunta.
Id., ibid.

297. Pompei, étude sur l’art antique.

298. Bucolica VII, 32.

299. Vellej. Paterc. II, 82.

300. Philip. III, 6.

301. Philip. XIII, 13.

302. Nat. Hist. IX, 56.

303. Sen. Fra. III, 18. Cic. Decr. II, 5, 33.

304. «Quelli che tingono la lana d’altro colore: gli offectores quelli che la
ritingono dello stesso colore.» — Insomma i primi lo mutano, i secondi lo
conservano.

305. P. 278, n. 170 e 171.

306.

Sì puzzolente è Taide,
Che putir non suol tanto
Di tintor gretto un vecchio
vaso dïanzi infranto.
Trad. di Magenta.

Ora, in talun luogo si usufrutta delle orine per ragione di ingrasso. Già
Vittor Hugo nei Miserabili mostrò di quanta utilità sarebbe il trar profitto
in Parigi degli égouts: in Milano si è stabilita una società con tale intento
sotto la denominazione di Vespasiano, dall’Imperatore di tal nome, che
primo impose la tassa sugli orinatoi. Vedi Svetonio nella vita di questo
Cesare.

307. Metam. L. IX, Plin. XXXV, 57.

308. Pompeja, Pag. 279.

309. Magenta tradusse:

Il nostral rosso ti versar le botti.

Ma come facilmente vedrà il lettore, il traduttore assegnò al vino il colore

che il Poeta assegna al cadus; onde più fedelmente sarebbesi detto:

non peregrini
Il rosso caratel diffonde i vini.
Epig. Lib. IV, 66.

310.

E il flavo mele da rubiconda

Fiala versare.
Epig. Lib. I, 56, trad. Magenta.
311. Petron. Satyricon, 34.

312. V. 31.

Anfora a far s’imprende; ond’è che poi

Gira la ruota, e n’esce orciuol?
Trad. Gargallo.

313. Ruines de Pompei, 4 vol. in folio. Parigi presso Firmin Didot. Il 4 volume
fu compilato da L. Barré.

314. Museo Borbonico, 1 vol. in 4 ogni anno con tavole a bulino.

315. Ercolano e Pompei, Venezia 1841, Tip. Antonelli.

316. Vi furono dotti che congetturarono che le vôlte della Cloaca Massima
facessero parte di canali coperti di un’antica città, forse Pallantea, sulle
cui ruine si pretese fabbricata Roma; ma se così fosse Tarquinio non
avrebbe fatto altro che restaurare quanto rimaneva dei vecchi
acquedotti. Infatti le rendite del suo piccolo regno non avrebbero per
avventura bastato a tanta opera. I lavori di essa ingranditi
successivamente in diverse epoche, furono poi così spinti da Agricola,
genero di Augusto, che, al dir di Plinio, formò, per così esprimersi, sotto
il recinto di Roma una città navigabile.

317. Storia dell’Architettura di Tommaso Hope, pag. 25. Milano, 1840. Tip.
Lampato.

318. Le Drame de Vésuve, chap. Herculanum.

319. Non voglio defraudare i lettori de’ venturi anni di conoscere l’autore di
questa teorica, che lascia addietro ed eclissa ogni economista: essa
appartiene al piemontese Quintino Sella, ministro più volte del Regno
Subalpino e d’Italia.

320. Pompei qual era e qual è. Per Gustavo Luzzati. — Napoli, 1872.

321. Æneid., Lib. VI, v. 847 — 853.

Abbinsi gli altri de l’altre arti il vanto;

Avvivino i colori e i bronzi e i marmi;
Muovano con la lingua i tribunali;
Mostrin con l’astrolabio e col quadrante
Meglio del ciel le stelle e i moti loro;
Chè ciò meglio saprem forse di voi.
 Ma voi, Romani miei, reggete il mondo
Con l’imperio e con l’armi, e l’arti vostre
Sien l’esser giusti in pace, invitti in guerra;
Perdonare a’ soggetti, accor gli umili,
Debellare i superbi.
Trad. di Annibal Caro.

322. Epist. Lib. II, ep. 1, 32.

Tutto sorte ci diè; pittor, cantori,

Lottator siam degli unti Achei più dotti.
Trad. Gargallo.

323. Id. Ibid. 94-98:

Grecia, scinta dall’arme, ove agli ameni

Studj si volse, e l’aura di fortuna
Nel vizio a dar la spinse; or di corsieri
Infiammossi, or di atleti, i marmi, i bronzi,
Gli sculti avori amò; talor dipinta
Tavola gli occhi le rapiva e il core.
Trad. Gargallo.

324. «Era presso di Ejo un larario antichissimo, lasciato dai maggiori e

guardato nella casa con assai dignità, nel quale si trovavano quattro
splendidissime statue, condotte con mirabile artificio e con somma
nobiltà; le quali non solo costui (Verre) ingegnoso e intelligente, ma
anche chiunque di noi ch’egli chiama idioti, vi si potesse deliziare: una di
marmo raffigurante Cupido di Prassitele, perocchè molti nomi di artefici,
appresi in codesta mia investigazione... Eranvi due statue di bronzo non
grandissime, ma in ricambio di una esimia venustà, in abito e veste
verginali, che sostenevano colle mani in aria levate sovra il capo certi
sacri arredi, secondo il costume delle fanciulle ateniesi. Canefore queste
si chiamavano: ma chi era l’artefice di essi? chi mai? si domanderà
giustamente. Dicevano che fossero di Policleto.» In Verrem, Lib. IV, De
Signis.

325. Vedi Plin. Nat. Hist. XXXV, 7, che enumera questi colori e li dice alieno
parietibus genere, cioè stranieri alle muraglie... udoque illini recusant, e
rifiutano di appigliarsi agli intonachi umidi.

326. Dizion. delle Antichità.

327. Pompeja, Pag. 425, nota 2.

328. Opere, Ediz. Silvestri di Milano vol. secondo, p. 305.

329. «Aver l’effigie di Epicuro non nelle tavole (quadri) soltanto, ma ne’
bicchieri eziandio e negli anelli.» Fin. 5. 1. extr.

330. «Le tavole ben dipinte collocare in buona luce.» In. Brut. 75.

331. Natur. Hist. XXXV, 2.

332. «Nerone principe aveva ordinato lo si pingesse colossalmente della

grandezza di 120 piedi sopra tela, genere fin allora sconosciuto; ma
appena ultimata, una folgore piombata negli orti di Maja, la incendiò in
un colla parte migliore degli orti.» Id. Ibid. 7.

333. Nat. Hist. XXXV, 135.

334. Pompéi et les Pompéiens. Paris 1867, p. 207.

335. Vedi Beulé, pag. 301, e La Peinture de genre, di M. Gebhart.

336. «Io in questo sol uomo trovo accogliersi qualunque vizio che immaginar
si possa in uom perduto e scellerato: non v’è alcun tratto, io ritengo, di
libidine, di scelleratezza e di audacia che voi non possiate vedere nella
vita di questo solo.»

337. Sen. In Suasoriis. Lib. 1; in Lactan. Lib. 2, c. 4.

338. «Nerone ebbe non mediocre abilità tanto nel pingere che nello scolpire.»

339. «Opere da anteporsi a tutte l’altre sì di pittura che di scultura.»

340. Così chiamata perchè il 3 novembre 1753 vi si scoprirono 1756 volumi,

o papiri, che, comunque in apparenza ridotti allo stato di carbone,
poterono tuttavia essere svolti e letti, come già dissi a suo luogo.

341. Vol. I, pag. 267.

342. «I pavimenti di pietruzze passarono dal suolo alle camere e si fecero di

vetro: è questa nuova invenzione. Agrippa (del tempo d’Augusto),
certamente nelle Terme da lui fabbricate in Roma, dipinse all’encausto
quant’era di terra cotta, nelle altre opere si valse degli stucchi: ma egli
indubbiamente avrebbe fatto le camere co’ musaici di vetro, se il
musaico allora fosse stato conosciuto, od anche dalle pareti della scena
del teatro di Scauro sarebbero passati alle camere.» Histor. Natur. Lib.
XXXVI, 25.
343. Senofonte, Ciropedia IV, 7.

344. Idem, VII, 3, 7.

345. Napoli, novembre 1831.

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